Summer at the Dursely's
by thelivinggirl
Summary: Harry has to spend his last summer before he turns seventeen at the Dursely's, and his boyfriend Draco isn't about to let him go alone. READER TAKE NOTE: This fic deals with explicit M/M sex, as well as swearing. And it's fluff/flangst.


Summer at the Dursley's

Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it, Harry decided. He was fidgety. Decidedly nervous. His green eyes were flicking around the train compartment, as if trying to assure himself that no, they weren't at platform 9 ¾ yet. His boyfriend sighed next to him.

"_Harry_, honestly, you're acting as if you actually _don't_ want to spend the summer with me." Draco sounded sullen.

"That's not it and you know it."

"Well, you could be acting a little bit more cheerful about the whole thing, then."

"Cheerful?" The green eyes turned to stare ironically at the blond boy beside him. "Draco, love, I'm thrilled that you want to spend the summer with me, but at the _Dursleys_? You can't be serious."

This time, the entire compartment sighed. Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville did not need to hear this spat again. "Come on, Neville," said Luna, standing and pulling said boy with her, "Let's go say hi to Hannah." Ron and Hermione leapt up after them, and Draco and Harry found themselves alone.

Taking advantage of their friends' absence, Draco slid into Harry's lap, twining his legs around the other boy's waist to look him in the face, a difficult task due to the floppy fringe Harry grew in a vain attempt to hide his scar. "I'm perfectly serious, as you well know. As if I'd let you return to those vile muggles alone. You're just lucky I haven't turned them into flobberworms – or worse." He tacked on menacingly.

Harry couldn't help but smirk at the enticing idea proposed by the even more enticing blond. The threatening scowl on Draco's face was extremely cute – when not directed at him. He put his hands on Draco's hips and pulled him slightly closer. The scarred forehead leaned against the unblemished one, and the two smiled, glad that they were now alone – it was hard to enjoy these moments with Ron making retching noises outside their lines of vision.

After a bit, Draco looked down to stare at the middle distance before saying, "Harry, why don't you want me with you this summer? I really don't understand. I- I know that things are… different at Hogwarts, and that…" His words trailed off into inaudible mutterings, but Harry was sure that he heard the words "other boys".

"Hey." Harry ducked his head as far as he could to peer into Draco's downturned face, trying to catch his eyes. Once the grey met green, he continued; "Don't be stupid." The words were softened with a smile. "That's the last thing I'd ever want."

"Then what?" Sullen!Draco was back. Even so, Harry could hear the note of relief in his voice. Well, if he was willing to suffer through a month with the Dursleys, then Draco deserved to know what was running through his head.

"I don't want you to see how they treat me." Harry said quietly, carefully gauging his boyfriend's reaction.

Draco stiffened in anger at the mention of Harry's family, but also looked confused. "But I've already seen that."

This was true; Harry had allowed Draco to perform Legilimens on him by the lake to spare himself the difficulty of explaining what his childhood had been like. Not the best idea, Harry contemplated afterwards; Draco's anger had been so terrible that he made Harry's incident with Aunt Marge look like a parlor trick. The sky had turned sooty and dark, all the grass within a twenty-foot radius had died, and the lake had smoked slightly, but none of this was quite as terrifying as Draco's expression. Harry was surprised that the Dursleys had not exploded back on Privet Drive from the pure force of Draco's fury.

It had taken Harry a full half hour to calm him down. He was completely stunned – he had never seen this side of Draco before, and he was shocked at how deeply he cared.

In the present, Harry took a steadying breath. "That was different. I don't want you seeing it first-hand… I don't want you to see me just shut up and take it, because I have to. Draco, I couldn't stand you seeing me get walked all over, I couldn't stand it if you saw me like they do-"

"Shut up. Just shut up, Potter. First of all, I'm cursing them into oblivion the second they treat you badly, so that's not the issue, but do you really think that how I see you would be affected by those despicable muggles? I love you, you prat! How could you even imagine –"

This time it was Harry who interrupted Draco, pressing his lips fervently to his lover's, feeling lighter than he had in days. Draco responded passionately, pushing Harry's lips open with his own and slipping his tongue inside, moaning into Harry's mouth as his fingers wound in ebony hair. Harry eagerly pressed up into the kiss, feeling Draco's hardness grow against his own, repressed by the muggle trousers he was wearing. They thrust together, all lips and tongues and hands beneath shirts, not caring for the world as the friction between their bodies sent rockets of electricity up their spines until, groaning and gasping each other's name, the two came hard and fast. Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder, nuzzling the blond's neck as Draco leaned his cheek against Harry's wild hair.

Some part of Harry suspected that he should feel embarrassed that they still came in their trousers when they were too public and excited to actually fuck, but hell, they were teenagers. He certainly didn't have a problem with it, and Draco apparently didn't either.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Draco finished the cleaning spell he was casting and moved so Harry could lie down in the seat, after which he eagerly snuggled on top of his chest. Harry chuckled, tucking the platinum head under his chin. Having your partner lie on your chest may not be the best way to catch your breath after release, but it felt…nice.

After a bit, Harry remembered something else left to discuss.

"Draco?"

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"…If you're waiting for me to say, 'anything', don't hold your breath." Draco said haughtily. "Malfoys are trained from birth not to make promises without knowing the conditions."

"Draco, you can't hex the Dursleys, no matter what. They've never treated me right, but this is my last summer with them, I'm only staying until my seventeenth birthday in July, and I won't have you go to Azkaban because of them. They aren't worth it."

"Right, I'll just sit back and say, 'Oh, no, go ahead and treat the love of my life like dirt'." He gave a very Slytherin snort of contempt. "I don't think so, Harry."

Despite the topic at hand, Harry's heart leapt at the words 'love of my life'. Just six months ago, Draco had been uncomfortable calling him anything other than 'Potter'. Smiling into blond hair, he continued gently. "Look, I'm only saying don't hex them. Feel free to insult their house, jobs, waistlines, whatever makes you happy. Although I'd rather you don't physically fight Dudley, mainly because ever since he took up boxing, he's as solid as a brick wall."

"Fine. But if I get pissed and _something_, such as your cousin's head, catches fire, I deny all liability."

Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione poked their heads in to see the boys curled up in each other. Ron rolled his eyes, but Hermione smiled and said, "Time to go."

Just like that, Harry was tense and worrying again. Now that Draco was seventeen, they were going to use Side-Along Apparition to arrive at 4 Privet Drive, and Kreacher was going to bring their luggage later (with strict commands to not be seen or heard). While it saved them an hour confined in a car with Uncle Vernon, it also meant that Draco would meet his entire family at once. The thought was enough to make Harry break out in a light sweat. The Dursleys had not wanted Draco in their house, not at all, but a message from Dumbledore had them changing their minds right quick. Dudley, who had grown meaner since discovering a few years back that Harry was not allowed to use magic outside school, apparently found it hilarious that his cousin was, indeed, a "queer". Mentally cringing away from thoughts of the cruel pranks and words Dudley would have for him and Draco upon their arrival, Harry was brought back to the present at the feel of a soft hand cupping the side of his face. Hiding his surprise that they were now standing, Harry smiled nervously down at the blond, who grabbed his hand and followed Ron and Hermione out onto platform 9 ¾.

……………………………………………………

After putting it off as long as possible, under the pretense of saying lengthy goodbyes to friends and going out to a late lunch, they Apparated to 4 Privet Drive. Harry took a deep breath and opened the front door, Draco peering around his shoulder. "Hello?" He called into the front hall. A grunt came from the direction of the kitchen. Grasping Draco's hand in his own sweaty one, he made his way down the hall to where his aunt was stirring something gray and lumpy in a pot while his uncle appeared to be attempting to build a birdhouse on the kitchen table. Dudley was apparently _reading_, which was unnerving.

"So, _you're_ back, are you?" said Uncle Vernon. His blond hair had turned gray over the school year, and combined with his thick, squat neck and ridiculous mustache, it was rather like being welcomed home by a very ugly walrus. Harry felt Draco's hand tighten on his as he seethed at Vernon's tone, and while rubbing the blond's hand soothingly with his thumb, he pressed onwards.

"Er, yeah, we are. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, I'd like you to meet my… Draco Malfoy." He didn't want to find out their reaction to the word 'boyfriend'. "Draco, this is my family." His aunt and uncle glared at the pair while Dudley looked disgusted, but Draco just sneered imperiously at them and turned to Harry.

"Let's go to your room. I want to see what it looks like."

"Yeah, okay, fine. That sounds good." Harry grabbed Draco's hand and fairly dragged him from the kitchen towards the stairs before his relatives, especially Dudley, could say anything particularly rude. Partway there, Draco stopped so suddenly and firmly that Harry thought he might have dislocated his shoulder. Wincing at the pain in this arm socket, he twisted around to see Draco staring at what had passed as his room for nearly eleven years, the cupboard under the stairs.

…………………………………………..

Draco stared at the innocuous, seemingly innocent white door beneath the staircase. God, it looked even smaller than it had in Harry's memories – the top of the door barely reached above his waist. Draco eventually became aware of arms looped around his torso, a gentle, soothing voice in his ear, and allowed himself to be tugged away from that little white door, up a flight of stairs, and into a small room.

Harry stayed with him for hours, distracting him from his anger and the house and the Dursleys. They snogged, but neither was in a mood to go much further. Harry taught him some muggle card games called 'Spoon' and 'Spit'. They rested on the bed, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Still, through these activities, Draco was cursing the Dursleys to a thousand horrible deaths in the cruelest ways he could imagine.

As they lay there, Draco was desperate to hold Harry tight, a bit like an oversized teddy-bear. He decided that Harry was definitely the one who needed the comfort, _not _him, and Harry allowed Draco to hold him against his chest to his heart's content. It made Draco happy to see that however little Harry really needed to be held, the Gryffindor always seemed ridiculously pleased to be in the Slytherin's arms.

Eventually, Harry loosened Draco's iron grip around his back and slid up to kiss Draco lightly on lips. "I'm going to go get us some food. I won't be long, so stay here, 'kay?" Reluctantly, Draco nodded. They had to eat, and it was probably best for him to not confront Harry's relatives yet. Kissing him one last time before getting up, Harry stiffly stood and left the room. Draco sighed and rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head in a manner he had picked up from Harry. Frowning at the ceiling, he chided himself; he was supposed to be making this the best summer ever for Harry, and all he had done so far was have a staring contest with a closet and then act like a clingy, protective fool the rest of the evening. Was he turning into a Hufflepuff? He was Draco Malfoy, damn it! He knew how to rock Potter's world, and he was never one for letting good knowledge go to waste. Plus, he could hit two birds with one stone – Harry's aunt and uncle were clearly homophobes, and Draco held the power to make them feel very, _very_ uncomfortable.

Grinning with his newfound plan for the summer, he could hear his clumsy oaf of a boyfriend tramp his way up the stairs and then the door banged open, two plates held aloft in each hand like trophies. Flopping onto the bed, he handed a plate to Draco, beaming. "They tried to shove all the leftovers down the garbage disposal as soon as they heard me coming", he crowed, "but I beat them to it!" Torn between celebrating Harry's small victory like a good boyfriend and demanding to know why the hell getting a decent amount of food was even _cause_ for celebration, Draco decided on option three.

"Thank you, Harry", he purred, shooting Harry one of his sexiest smiles. Harry choked for a moment on a piece of boiled chicken while Draco watched, delighted, as the black pupils swelled slightly to overtake the green. A shameless tease, Draco immediately began to eat with as much vigor as he could muster for the tasteless chicken and mushy peas. Harry squirmed in his position on the end of the bed, clearly attempting to squash his libido. Harry finished his dinner quickly, but Draco took a bit longer, managing to be extremely provocative with his utensils all the while. Smirking at the frustration on his boyfriend's face, he finally set the plate carefully on the bedside table to join Harry's and reclined against the pillows, propping his head up to watch Harry as he stretched out seductively, lengthening all of his limbs for Potter's enjoyment.

Harry knelt into a crouch, his darkened eyes shooting sparks straight to Draco's groin. Shifting forward onto all fours, he crawled to the head of the of the bed until he hovered over the pale body, grinning dangerously as Draco felt his heart try to leap out of his chest. No matter how many times they did this, Harry never failed to make Draco feel absolutely… well, there were no words to describe how Harry made him feel, but it was beyond incredible. Harry started kissing him, lips exuberant as they sucked and meshed with Draco's. The blond nipped playfully at his lower lip, then soothed the irritation with his tongue, coaxing a low, needy moan from Harry's throat that sent the blood racing through his veins.

Pulling the brunet down on top of him, Draco's hand disappeared up the back of Harry's shirt, dancing up and down Quidditch-honed muscles that were all his to enjoy. A pleased-type growl escaped from his throat as he rolled Harry over onto his back, quickly straddling his hips and pulling his shirt up, over, and off. Harry, in his now-shirtless state, hurried to get Draco in the same condition, buttons flying as he ripped off Draco's button-down. "Hey!" Draco cried indignantly. "I liked that shirt!"

"Nothing a good Reparo couldn't fix." Harry's voice was muffled as he sat up and pressed kisses onto Draco's chest.

"But it won't be the same. That was _Egyptian cotton_, Harry!" Inwardly, Draco was pleased with himself – it was amazingly difficult to whine when you had a hard-on that was threatening to rip through your trousers. But then all thoughts of complaining flew out of his head as his boyfriend latched onto a pink nipple and sucked, flicking his tongue across the pert tip. Giving an animalistic moan, Draco couldn't have controlled his pelvis if he tried; he began mindlessly grinding and thrusting in Harry's lap, causing the other boy to gasp and push Draco backwards until he was once again on top, invading Draco's mouth with his tongue, hands ripping at Draco's zipper. Only one thought made it through the layers of bliss and lust clouding Draco's mind; get Harry naked, _now_.

Draco's slender fingers, more nimble than Harry's, made fast work of the button and zipper on Harry's trousers and unceremoniously shoved them down and off his legs, taking the pants with them. Impatient, he tried to knock Harry's hands away from his own zipper and do that himself as well, but the brunet did not seem to like that. In one seeker-fast maneuver, Draco's hands were pinned above his head with Harry nuzzling the skin below his ear, whispering, "Come on, baby, you know how much I love undressing you."

Draco's cock twitched, and there was nothing he could do about the whimper that worked its way out of his throat in reaction to Harry's words. Merlin help him, he loved it when Harry called him baby.

Draco ran his hand down Harry's chest, over toned abdominals, and smoothly around the hard length of his cock. Harry's head snapped back on his neck, his mouth pressed into a thin line to keep from crying out loud as Draco stroked him firmly. In a second, Draco's pants were torn down and Harry was taking Draco's hands off his dick in order to rub their erections together. Draco bucked at the feeling, moaning, "Oh fuck, Harry."

"Soon, baby, very soon."

Panting, Draco wrapped his legs around Harry, closing his eyes and shamelessly rocking under the tanned, gorgeous body as Harry gently bit down on his neck and sucked. He placed his hands on Draco's hips to stop his gyrating.

"Draco, if you don't stop I'm gonna come." He moaned.

"Don't you dare!"

"Merlin, you're so fucking hot. Where's the lube?"

"Trouser pocket. Oh fuck, Harry, please…"

Harry slid down Draco's body, placing his hands oh Draco's arse cheeks and spreading them wide. "Lift up," he ordered. Trembling, Draco complied. Harry's tongue teased around Draco's entrance, lightly sucking and kissing until he plunged his tongue as deep in as he could, until he thought his jaw would break. He worked in a finger, then two, waiting until Draco's fragile hold over his self control snapped.

And snap it did. "Oh hell, Harry, fuck, Merlin, please, I need it, oh God, give it to me, please Harry, oh fuck just do it Harry, please…" he babbled incoherently, moaning and writhing as he grabbed a fistful of messy black hair and brought up the head attached to it, capturing Harry's lips in a kiss filled with want.

"Lube's too far…" Draco muttered. With that, he spat into his hand and coated Harry's cock, causing the Gryffindor to buck above him. Pulling him into another kiss, Draco whispered against his mouth, "I need you." Harry wound his fingers in Draco's hair, arranging the blond's legs so they were caught behind the knees in the crook of Harry's arms, and eased himself in.

"Merlin, Draco, you're so fucking tight, so hot," he groaned. Draco replied by rocking forward and impaling himself completely on Harry's cock, hissing in pleasure as the oh-so-familiar burn flared, and Harry moaned louder than ever into his mouth. Draco threw his head back in pleasure, and Harry dragged his lips down Draco's throat to lick and pant as he trust again and again, hooking Draco's legs over his shoulders so he could wrap an arm around his back and a hand around his cock. Draco cried out in pleasure as Harry's prick brushed his prostate over and over, sending his pelvis surging upwards with each plunge. Neither lasted; it had been too long since they had a proper fuck, rather than just tossing each other off behind tapestries or pushed up against the wall of a deserted corridor.

The two came simultaneously as they kissed, tongues twisting and fingers curling against backs. Harry tried to contain his cry of ecstasy while Draco shouted long and wantonly, but neither was quiet in any respect. Harry collapsed onto Draco as he was wont to do after a spectacular orgasm, pressing mushy kisses to the pale chest. Draco allowed it for a moment, then pushed Harry over until the brunet gathered him in his arms as they turned onto their sides, kissing Draco sweetly in their post-coital bliss. "You're amazing," Harry muttered into platinum hair, "and perfect, and adorable –"

"Don't call me 'adorable', Potter. I am a Malfoy."

"But you're my Malfoy," Harry rubbed their noses together, Eskimo style. Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled, surrendering to the gooey sentiments and delightful cuddling his boyfriend was piling on. He kissed Harry's scar, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

Draco could practically feel his body melting into those strong arms. Unable to resist, he whispered, "Love you."

"Love you, too."

Draco dragged the covers over them, tactfully ignoring the appallingly low thread-count, and, sweaty and sticky with release, the two slept in each other's arms.

……………………………………………..

"Harry! Harry Potter! Get up this _minute_, you lazy boy!"

Draco and Harry were awoken by an unpleasant screeching that would have put fingernails on glass to shame. Draco instinctively burrowed further beneath the covers, while Harry instinctively leapt up to prevent any more of the horrible noise. Without stopping to apologize for displacing Draco from his resting place on Harry's torso – so _that's_ why his body was so cramped – he cracked open the door and peered out at his aunt, her horse-like face contorted into an expression of disgust and malice. "Harry Potter, just because you have your nasty little…_freak_ friend in my house does not mean that you don't have the same chores as always. Get downstairs and make breakfast."

Harry hotly replied, "Draco's _not_ a freak, he's my –"

"I'm his boyfriend." Draco's voice dripped in unspoken threats as he ripped the door open, revealing both of the boys in their mutual states of undress. Harry was suddenly very aware of how much they stank of sex, and Aunt Petunia recoiled into the opposing wall as though slapped, unable to stop gaping at the pair, or rather, the scaly dried substance on their stomachs. Harry was shocked into stone.

"Unless you would like Harry to prepare your food in his current state," Draco continued, "I highly recommend that you do it yourself. Now if you would excuse us, we have not yet finished sleeping off our amazing orgasms resulting from the brilliant shag we had last night, the likes of which I'm sure you and your husband have not shared in many a millennia, if ever."

Aunt Petunia managed no more than a frightened "Eep!" before she fled down the hallway, as fast as she could from her come-covered naked gay wizard nephew and his boyfriend.

Draco pulled Harry away from the door before closing it, frowning at the dried spunk on their stomachs. "Gross."

"Draco, what the _hell_ was that?!"

"What?" Draco asked, widening his gray eyes in feigned innocence. Well, Harry was pretty sure it was feigned, anyway. No, wait, he was right the first time – completely fake. Damn, Malfoy was just too good at that.

Harry paced angrily across the room in front of Draco. "Don't 'what' me! You can't just _expose_ me to my aunt and announce that we had amazing sex last night!"

"Why not?"

"Why not?! Because we aren't all exhibitionist little wankers like yourself! Some of us don't want our relatives seeing us _naked_, knowing all about our personal life!"

"Merlin, Harry, testy much? It's not like they don't already know about the sex."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, besides the fact that we're _sharing a room_, I didn't cast a silencing charm last night."

"YOU WHAT?!" Harry sputtered as he relayed last night's events in his head. Yup, no 'Silencio' to be heard. "But you always take care of the silencing charm! Fuck, Draco, how am I supposed to face them?" He sank onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, his imagination reeling with images of his aunt and uncle lying awake, side by side, as they heard illicit moans and bumps issuing from Harry's room. Hell, they were _loud_ when they came! It made him feel sick – he didn't want Petunia and Vernon knowing when he was in such a… _vulnerable_ state. "Draco, why didn't you cast the charm?"

Draco crawled onto the bed, kneeling behind Harry and rubbing the brunet's back soothingly. "Because you need to stop worrying about what these people think of you, of _us_, and just tell them to fuck off," he said gently. "I know that you're trying to cut them out of your life, but you're making it pretty damn easy for them to manipulate you."

Harry removed his hands from his face and leaned back into the warm, skilled caresses. He chuckled softly, saying, "You should know all about manipulating, you Slytherin arsehole, you do it to me all the time. Yeah, yeah, I know you're right. I'm not gonna fight you on it, I just want to go back to sleep. What time is it?"

Rather than just check the clock, Draco grabbed his want and cast the Tempus charm. "It's seven in the morning. Your aunt is a fucking bitch."

"That she is," Harry yawned. "I should probably go take a shower."

"Probably," Draco said complacently, tugging Harry into his arms and lying them down under the covers, spooning behind his Gryffindor.

"Mmmm." Harry was already asleep. Draco buried his face in the messy hair at Harry's nape and did the same.

………………………………………………………..

Draco awoke several hours later to an empty bed and the smell of food. Stumbling out of bed, he wrinkled his nose at his stomach, still covered in dried come. His stomach won out over his desire for hygiene, so he cast a few cleaning spells, threw on a pair of Harry's jeans, and followed his nose down the stairs into the kitchen. The Dursleys were nowhere to be found, and Harry was cooking on that muggle contraption that boiled water and warmed things up. He stood behind the brunet and ran kisses up his neck, smiling as Harry jumped a little, then relaxed and tilted his head to allow for better access.

"You're so cute," Draco cooed, "You made me breakfast!"

"I made _myself_ breakfast," Harry corrected mock-sternly. "You just assume it's for both of us to save yourself the trouble of cooking."

Draco sniffed and sat down at the table, unceremoniously shoving Vernon's birdhouse project off to the side where it balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Wondering if Harry would notice if he sent a light spell to knock it to the floor, he said, "It's not _my_ fault that I grew up with all my culinary needs met for me."

A steaming pile of eggs and bacon arrived in front of him, and he reached up to capture Harry's lips for a moment before he moved too far away. Harry responded by swiftly slipping his tongue inside Draco's mouth before pulling away, leaving the blond gaping like a goldfish for a moment. Recovering quickly, he tucked in with a fervor reserved for well-shagged boys.

Soon, Harry gathered up the plates and brought them over to the sink, running the tap over them before placing them in the dishwasher. Draco sighed.

"I can't believe Dumbledore wouldn't let me bring my house-elf to this place."

"I don't mind. Besides, I'm not so keen on having another house-elf in this house after Dobby got me locked in my room nearly all summer." Harry immediately bit his lip, not knowing how Draco would react to this reminder of his less-than-pleasant childhood.

Draco bit back instinctual anger and just shrugged and said, "For what it's worth, the Weasel and the twin terrors rescuing you may have redeemed them somewhat in my eyes."

Harry frowned a tiny bit. "Don't call Ron 'the Weasel', Draco, though the sentiment was nice…mostly."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Potter. Just don't expect me to become best friends with the git. Though Granger is tolerable, I suppose."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into a smile. Then he turned serious.

"I don't care if you're friends with him or not, but if you're coming with me to the Weasley's after I turn seventeen, you better not insult them, especially Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They're the closest thing I've got to parents, and the first people who ever made me feel like I was part of a family. Think whatever you want, but if one rude comment slips past your lips, well… let's just say that the last time that happened, you, me, and Ron all landed in the Hospital Wing."

Draco winced at the reminder. "Fine, fine. You know, the Little Orphan Harry card only works so often. And you wouldn't hit me."

"Yeah, well, that's only because I sort of love you now."

"'_Sort of'_?"

"Fine, a lot. I love you a lot." Harry sighed as if saying this was a chore, rather than the delight it was.

Draco smirked lovingly at the raven-haired Gryffindor. "Good. You too, git." he said in a satisfied voice, and pressed a sweet kiss to Harry's lips.

"Damn, Duds, you were right; queer as a three-sided coin."

Harry and Draco ripped apart to glare at Dudley and a rat-like boy who Draco recalled from Harry's memories; he was usually the one pinning younger-Harry's arms while Dudley wailed on him. Draco was shirtless, but he could feel his wand in his pocket. He almost wished that he had forgotten it, not that that ever happened, but it would be much harder not to curse the stupid muggles while his wand was within reach.

"I know, Piers. Hey faggots, no kissing in the kitchen, people eat in here," said Dudley.

"I don't see how," sneered Draco, "As your face is more than enough to make anyone lose their appetite."

Dudley turned an astonishing shade of red that was highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon, but Piers smiled nastily and said to Dudley, "At least you know that you were right."

"What do you mean?" Dudley turned a befuddled look on Piers that made him look even more like a mountain troll.

"You know, about how he talked in his sleep a few summers ago. '_No, not Cedric,'"_ Piers mimicked, adopting a lisp and girly manner, "_'Mum, help, save Cedric!_' He was your boyfriend after all, wasn't he Potter?" Piers and Dudley threw their heads back and laughed like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

Draco ground his teeth, resisting the urge to hex the boys until they bled, and focused on Harry, who needed to calm down before something exploded.

Harry took several deep breaths and struggled to suppress his infamous temper. He needed to control himself, but didn't want to run from Dudley like the scrawny little kid he used to be in a game of Harry Hunting. Drawing from Draco's apparent calm, he got his magic under control. He wasn't going to lose it, but he _was_ going to scare the shit out of Dudley.

"Duddykins, do you really want to do this again? Especially after what happened last time you thought you'd antagonize me about this?" Grim satisfaction flooded Harry's body as Dudley's eyes widened with remembrance and took an automatic step back. Piers looked confused, but followed suit.

"Because you know," Harry continued, "You might feel just _awful_ afterwards… almost like you'll never be happy again." Harry was never one for nuances, but Dudley seemed to be getting the message as he backed up a few more steps.

"You know what else, Dudley? When you go pink like that, you look just oh-so much like a little _piggy_. All that's missing is the _tail_."

This seemed to be the final straw for Dudley, because he backed out of the room so fast he fell in the hall, clutching his bottom. Piers called after him, frightened, but squeaked to find himself alone with the murderous-looking Harry and Draco before scampering out himself.

When the boys left, Harry turned to Draco, shaking. The twisted little smile he had held to frighten Dudley fell into a grimace before Draco's eyes. The blond could sense Harry's anger, but he could also feel the distress.

"Come here," the blond whispered, and wrapped his arms around the just-taller boy. Harry sagged into the embrace, burying his face in Draco's neck.

"The sad thing is that they probably think that they were right." Harry mumbled sadly. "While Dudley's imagining some random illicit lover, all I can think of is Wormtail _Avada Kedavra_-ing the life out of him."

"It's okay," Draco murmured. "What do you want to do today? We could go out, go back upstairs, even go to Diagon Alley if you like. In fact, I could Apparate us anywhere you want to go."

"Dumbledore says I shouldn't go too far from the house. Even if Voldemort technically can't touch me while I call this place 'home', there's too many Deatheaters to go anywhere too far away or where the Order can't keep watch." Harry lifted his head to look into Draco's eyes, his own slightly glassy. "I can't believe I've trapped you here with these people, I'm sorry."

Draco frowned. "I choose to be here, and I'm hardly trapped if I'm with you."

"You're too good for me."

"Every witch and wizard in Britain, probably in the world, would disagree with you."

"Yeah, well, the public's opinion and mine have never really got on."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"…We really do smell, you know."

"Hmm, you think? Well, now nobody can say those lovely badges you made in fourth year were inaccurate."

Draco snorted and raised his arms to Harry's neck, pressing his bare torso against Harry's frustratingly clothed one. "Care to join me in the shower, Mr. Potter?"

Harry smiled. It was going to be a good summer.

……………………………………………

Draco and Harry squinted against the sunlight as they stepped outside. After their shower, Draco had cajoled Harry into a pair of swim trunks that were similar to his own, except his were green, whereas Harry's were black. Pausing only to grab a pair of towels, two pairs of sunglasses, and a tube of muggle sunblock, he trooped the protesting Harry out the front door to sunbathe on the lawn.

"But, Draco!" Harry tried again. "The neighbors have hardly seen me in _years_, and what will they think if they see us?"

Draco whirled around to face him. Standing very close, he grasped Harry's biceps and asked, "Do you care?"

"Wha-no! It's just that… well if Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia found out-"

"They'd bluster and stutter until I whipped out my wand and then they'd be too terrified to utter another word about it."

Harry blushed, which was enough to make Draco smile and let go of his biceps to sling an arm around his shoulders. "What are you blushing about, Potter?"

Harry sniggered. "Draco, if you whipped out your, ahem, _wand_ in front of them, I'm not sure that 'terrified' would be the correct word to use."

Draco rolled his eyes to the sky. "Salazar save us from Saint Potter of the Dirty Mind."

Harry refused to stop, laughing, "I was thinking something more along the lines of 'amazed', or 'impressed', or 'in awe'."

Draco laughed too and ruffled the black hair in revenge, making it look exactly the same as it always had. Harry would have ruffled his back, but one of the things he had learned about Draco was that mussing his hair was only forgivable whilst done during snogging or sex, and even then, you were obligated to hear him bitch about it later.

The two spread out their towels and stretched out on the grass, smiling into the sun. After a few minutes, Harry began to get restless. He enjoyed sunbathing as much as the next teen, he supposed, but he always felt like he should be _doing_ something. He cracked an eye and glanced over at Draco, who apparently had no such qualms, looking sexy in his trunks and shades. So Harry stretched again and turned onto his stomach. After a few moments of that, he sighed and tried to occupy himself with blowing his hair out of his eyes, which quickly got tedious. He couldn't help it – he just wasn't tired at all. He turned back onto is back and sighed heavily again.

Draco found this to be the appropriate moment to reach over and smack him upside the head.

"Ouch!" yelped Harry, surprised by the sudden blow. "What was that for?"

"Stop fidgeting, Potter, it's irritating."

"Sorry, Draco, I'm just not in the mood to sunbathe. I need something to do."

Draco sighed his trademark 'Harry-Potter-Why-Do-I-Put-Up-With-You' sigh. "Fine, if you need something to do, you can put some sunscreen on me. I'll start to burn soon if you don't, and I'm far too comfortable to move right now."

Harry grabbed the bottle and squirted some sunblock into his hand, because really, anything that had to do with sliding his hands over Draco's flawless skin was fine by him. Setting to work, he rubbed his palms together and clapped a hand onto each of Draco's shoulders, grinning vindictively as his boyfriend jumped at the cold, and gently rubbed down his arms to the tops of his hands. Then he moved to Draco's throat, following the curve of where his shoulders met his neck, and tracing the hollow of his throat. Ever so slightly, Draco lifted his chin, arching his neck. While most people would mistake this for just a movement, Harry knew it was Draco showing him that he liked this.

Smiling, Harry used more sunscreen to write on Draco's skin with his fingertip. 'DM + HP 4EVER' adorned Draco's abs while 'I'm a Gryffindor lover' was scrawled sideways up his leg. On his bicep, Harry drew an arrow pointing to Draco's head and wrote 'Secret Hufflepuff' under it.

Draco, meanwhile, had no idea what was being written, but could feel Harry's amusement. He loved the fact that the Gryffindor wore his emotions so freely, but he just made it too easy for Draco to thwart him – "You better erase those," he attempted to growl menacingly. Harry chuckled, but did as told – his hands rubbed away the words on his leg and used the excess on his other leg as well. He massaged the words on Draco's torso, turning each touch into a caress, biting his lip as he brushed Draco's sensitive nipples frequently.

Draco moaned in frustration, "Harry Potter, don't you _dare_ get me hard right now." They both knew that the Order was having people watch over them, and yet the ebony-haired devil was still acting this way! Draco flipped over onto his stomach so Harry couldn't touch his chest anymore.

Harry shook his head at Draco's refusal to cooperate and got some more sunblock. Gently but firmly, he wrote 'I Love You' in large letters on Draco's back. The blond smiled dreamily, feeling the letters Harry had written so determinedly. He imagined an Order member getting a good look at that and grinned wider.

Harry now used the sunscreen to give Draco nearly a full on massage, straddling the green-clad arse and kneading his thumbs and fingers into Draco's skin.

Meanwhile, Draco was fighting a losing battle with his burgeoning erection. Had it been anyone other than Harry touching him, he could have controlled his libido fairly easily, but it wasn't, so he couldn't. Damn those gorgeous, strong hands…

Harry finished up shortly and moved off Draco onto his own towel. "Draco, love, you can turn over now."

"Sorry, _Potter_, I'd rather not," Draco seethed at him. The damned tease knew full well why he was still on his stomach. He closed his eyes and concentrated on willing his erection away. He was just starting to succeed when he realized that Harry had been awfully quiet.

"Harry?"

Out of nowhere, a deluge of ice-cold water sprayed him all over. He shrieked loudly and quickly flipped over onto his back, trying to get away, but only allowed the water to hit him square in the chest. Yelping, he tried to scramble away, slipping on the now-wet grass and getting grass stains all over his legs and hands. The water stopped, and he became aware of his boyfriend standing in front of him and laughing hysterically. Then, Draco noticed the long green tube from which water was leaking.

The Gryffindor was now gasping in breaths of air in between fits of laughter, clutching at a stitch in his side and nearly crying with mirth. "Just thought I'd help you with your _problem_," he laughed. "Nothing works better than a cold shower, Draco."

The sopping wet blond leapt to his feet. "I am going to _kill_ you!" he yelled, and launched himself at the brunet, taking them both down. Harry struggled, but he couldn't fight very hard because he was _still laughing!_ Draco quickly gained control of the green tube, figured how to control the water with the brass nozzle at the end, and turned it on, spraying it directly into Harry's face.

Harry struggled harder now, but still couldn't stop the helpless giggles. After a while, when Draco feared he might be drowning Harry and the prat was simply too bonkers to tell him, he shoved the hose down the front of Harry's swim trunks. The laughter stopped.

"AHHHH!" Harry yelled, pushing Draco over and pulling out the hose as quickly as possible. He glared at the blond resentfully, resisting the urge to check that everything was still in the right place. But Godric, that _hurt_! He glared over at Draco who was sitting a few feet away, looking deliciously tousled.

"You'd think you'd be a little more careful with my bits, considering how much you claim to enjoy them!" he shouted.

Draco sniffed. "It's not like I attacked unprovoked, unlike _somebody_ I could name!"

Harry pouted. "Yeah, well, now you know the danger of a bored Harry Potter. Beware."

Draco said nothing, but continued to glare.

After a moment, Harry sighed. "Truce?" he asked, extending his hand.

Draco hesitated, his eyes flicking around Harry's face, looking for a trick. When he found none, they shook hands. "Truce." He confirmed.

Harry smiled broadly – fuck, he was gorgeous when he did that – and used their clasped hands to pull Draco to him and plant a big kiss on his lips.


End file.
